


Big Brother Instinct

by Mintoki



Series: Batman's Protector [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Jason Todd never died, Big Brother Jason Todd, Explicit Language, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I mean it's Jason so... what do you expect?, Jason Todd is Robin, Nightmares, Protective Jason Todd, Tim Drake Gets a Hug, Tim Drake Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 15:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17900870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mintoki/pseuds/Mintoki
Summary: "The kid is right up the Wayne family’s alley. A boy with a bad backstory, found and rescued by Batman after being caught in a sticky situation. Hell, the kid even has black hair like the rest of the family. It’s practically perfect."ORIn which Batman and Robin rescue Tim Drake and Jason's natural protective instincts take over even after the fact.





	Big Brother Instinct

**Author's Note:**

> Whelp here we go! The sequel/ tie in to "Batman's Protector" If you haven't read that yet, I'd recommend checking it out since it gives much more framework/context to this fic though I suppose it isn't 100% necessary since the first scene here is a scene that happens there, just from a different perspective
> 
> I'm still not sure how I feel about the flow of this story, but I figured I'd post it anyway! Also, Jason's character was giving me a bit of trouble since it's still Jason obviously, but he never died which is a huuuuuge part of his character in canon. I'd love to hear any thoughts you might have regarding that!
> 
> I hope you enjoy the fic! Please leave a comment and let me know what you think :)

Sitting on a rooftop, searching for criminal activity isn’t something that Jason would necessarily consider fun. It’s been a couple weeks since the last Arkham breakout and ever since Riddler returned to his cell, there hadn’t been much action around Gotham. The city was never peaceful per se, but a few petty thefts and drug deals were nothing when compared to the mayhem caused by major rogues. Jason’s thankful, of course, for the safety this lack of action brings Gothamites, but he can’t help but look forward to when the next big case will be. It will certainly bring a little spice to his nights.

_Maybe things would be a little more exciting if I could patrol on my own._

Jason glances at Batman, positioned a few feet over from him. Instead of sitting like Robin, he positions himself in a low crouch, ready to leap into action at any moment. Despite the slow night the two have had--only preventing one mugging, an attempted burglary , and a carjacking--he’s on high alert. This low level of activity makes it the perfect night for Robin to start patrolling on his own again.

He knows that Bruce would never allow him to do it though.

Even moreso, Jason knows that deep down he’s not ready for it either.

It’s been months since his encounter with the Joker, months since his broken bones and head trauma healed enough for him to start crime fighting again. But the damage that was done to Jason’s psyche still plagues him. He couldn’t defend himself. No matter how hard he fought, he couldn’t escape the Joker’s grasp and it almost cost him his life. If Bruce had been even one minute later to his rescue, he wouldn’t be here right now.

And so he doesn’t patrol alone anymore. Bruce had been reluctant to let him go out at all after the incident, but Jason argued that he couldn’t just sit home; he couldn’t let Joker win by taking him out of commission. They reach a compromise instead: he sticks by Batman’s side, even if it’s sometimes boring, and he can keep patrolling. Jason would rather be bored to death than actually dead so he’s content to kick his feet absently as the dynamic duo stake out Crime Alley.

“We should change positions.” Batman suggests abruptly, starting to stand.

“B, it’s been an hour since we last saw any activity. Can’t we head back to base?” Jason reaches for his grapple gun, though, already knowing what the response will be.

“You know the procedure. One more round to all the target areas first. If we don’t notice anything, then we are done for the night.” Batman readies his own grapple gun and nods at Robin, indicating he can start off. Jason shoots his line and swings to the next building. Bruce isn’t far behind.

The dynamic duo make it about halfway through their end patrol route when Batman abruptly halts.

“Stop.” He commands, holding an arm out in front of the teen. “Did you hear that?”

Jason focuses on the various sounds around him, but doesn’t hear anything outside the night time norm. Cars cruise down the street, wind pushes trash across sidewalks, and drunk people let out uproarious laughter. Jason’s almost tempted to ask Bruce to explain himself when he catches something.

The scream is barely audible, the wind almost completely drowning it out, but it’s still alarming.

“It’s coming from the south.” Batman states, before shooting off into the night. Robin wastes no time following, bracing himself for whatever they’ll find when they reach the source of the cries. As the two continue on, the noises grow louder and Jason’s heart clenches in his chest. He can tell that whoever is yelling is just a child.

He’s fully prepared to confront an abusive parent, but he grows even more confused as the dynamic duo pass through a residential apartment block and don’t locate the kid. They continue on a few more blocks, into the old industrial sector of the city. The area is notorious for mob and gang activity which does nothing to abate Jason’s unease.

Batman singles out a specific warehouse and silently signals to the skylight. Robin nods, understanding the plan. The two will enter through the open hole in the roof and take stock of the situation once inside. He follows his mentor, dropping down onto a rafter above the warehouses main floor. After ensuring that he wasn’t heard, he scans the area below.

The layout isn’t anything out of the ordinary. Various crates and pieces of equipment cover the area, most likely only being stored there until they can be shipped out at a later date. The more important thing is the grown man towering over a heavily injured boy.

The kid is small. The chains that wrap around his wrists and ankles only serve to dwarf him even more. Even from his vantage point, Jason can tell that his face is an unrecognizable mess of cuts and bruises. Dread fills his chest at the sight. The scene is startlingly similar to his own encounter with the Joker months prior. From the abandoned warehouse to the chains tying the kid up, it all hits a bit too close to home. The only difference is this kid doesn’t even have the training Jason did. He has no hope of saving himself.

When the man stomps down on the boy’s fingers, eliciting a scream from the kid, Jason almost jumps onto the man right then and there. It’s only Batman’s strong grip on his forearm that stops him. Robin looks over at his mentor and sees him hold up the field signal for _‘wait for more information’._ After a second of hesitation, he also mouths _‘Bianchi’_ as an explanation.

Jason turns his attention back to the man on the warehouse floor and realizes that he is in fact the mob boss. The vigilantes haven’t collected a lot of information on the man, but he never struck Jason as the type to act when unprovoked. The only reason he can think of Bianchi becoming violent with a child is if the kid is a drug runner for him or one of the rival gangs. Even that doesn’t explain the cruelty he’s witnessing though.

The boy sobs, but doesn’t utter a word despite Bianchi’s attempts to coax something out of him. The man is vague at best, but the kid seems to know what he’s asking about; he just won’t answer. The question still remains whether he actually knows such information and is withholding it or really is in the dark. Watching the scene only serves to further Jason’s righteous anger.

After what feels like an eternity, but in actuality is only two minutes at most, Batman makes his move. He leaps from the rafters, directly into Bianchi. Just as Jason debates launching himself into the fray, the criminal grabs for the kid. The cry of pain that passes through his lips wrenches the teen’s heart, but he quickly directs his focus on the situation going on below him. Mainly, he notes the knife pressed against the kid’s throat and how it’s effectively stopped Batman’s activity.

“That’s right! Make one wrong move and I rip the kid’s Carotid artery wide open.” Bianchi calls. He’s a bit too smug for Jason’s liking. At the moment, all he wants to do is wipe the shit-eating grin off his face with a few well placed punches, but he knows that’s not the best course of action. He needs to wait for Bruce’s signal.

“I don’t doubt you will.” Batman replies, keeping his voice steady. “What will it take for you to put him down?”

“Your identity. Take off the cowl and I’ll drop the kid.” Bianchi readjusts his grip on the boy and proudly adds. “It might not have been how I expected it, but he’s still the key to figuring out who you are.”

Jason has to repress a snort at that, because man this guy really must be new to Gotham. He also must be really stupid. If he thinks that Batman is going to reveal his secret identity with this crappy of a plan, he’s got another thing coming. No, the vigilante will save the kid and put Bianchi behind bars before he even knows what hit him.

“I beg to differ.” And that’s Robin’s cue.

“What’s that suppos-” Before the man can finish his question, a batarang is already embedded in his hand. The knife clatters to the ground and Robin jumps into action. Batman engages Bianchi and Robin immediately moves to protect the kid.

He looks even worse up close. Not only is his face horrifically bloody, but his fingers are all bent at different angles. There’s probably even more damage he can’t see under his clothes. The agony this kid must have endured…

Robin tells the boy that he’s going to get the chains off him and despite the lack of response--maybe that slight head movement was a nod?--starts picking the locks. The chain around his wrists come off in no time and so he moves onto the ankles. Jason repositions the boy’s ankles to get a better angle, but at the movement the kid yelps. Instinctively, Jason tightens his grip on the ankle as he tries to pull it away. This only makes the boy scream before quickly biting down on his lip to keep the noise to a minimum. A few whimpers still slip out though.

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry kid. I didn’t realize it was that bad. I’ll try and be careful, but I gotta get these off of you.” Much more carefully this time, he gets to work and when he’s done props him against a wall. His eyes are closed, so Jason assumes that he passed out. He definitely wouldn’t blame him if that were the case.

Batman is finished with his fight and so the two meet back up, a few paces away from the kid. He reports on the boy’s condition and once again he’s stuck by just how wrong this whole situation is. Tonight wasn’t the only time the boy had been hit; the extensive bruising proves that.

“How could anyone do that to just a regular kid? Jesus, he can’t be any older than ten…” Noise from the kid prevents him from expanding on his statement. “Shit, he’s awake.” He rushes over to him, kneeling so as not to appear intimidating. “What was that, kid?”

“I said, I’m thirteen.” Jason fights to keep the surprise off his face, but isn’t sure if he ultimately succeeds. If he’s telling the truth, which he most likely is considering he has nothing to gain from lying, he’s an awful tiny thirteen year old. He probably hasn’t hit his growth spurt yet.

“I didn’t tell.” The young teen starts again.

“What do you mean by that?” Batman questions, moving into a position similar to Robin’s.

“He wanted to know about you guys” A cough interrupts his statement and Jason can’t help but wince in sympathy. That probably didn’t help any of his injuries.  “But I wouldn’t tell him anything.” The statement must help Bruce come to some conclusion he’s been pondering, as he moves from his position and stands up again.

“Bianchi said you were the key to figuring out our identities. You know our civilian IDs.” It’s not a question and there’s a definite hardness to his tone. Contrary to what most people would think though, he isn’t angry. Jason knows the harshness is how Bruce shows concern; after all, this child had to suffer for the vigilante’s secret.

The boy doesn’t know that though.

His breathing picks up and tears begin forming in the corners of his eyes. He chokes out a “Please don’t be mad” before it starts getting even worse.

“B, I think he’s having a panic attack. Should I give him a sedative?”

“Yes, Robin.”

Jason pulls a syringe filled with solution from his utility belt and, as gently as possible, injects it into the crook of the boy’s arm. He tries to fight it at first, but within a couple minutes, he’s completely knocked out.

“We should probably head out. The police will be here for Bianchi soon.” Batman states.

“What about him? We can’t just leave him here.”

“He potentially has information that could compromise us.” Bruce agrees in his own roundabout way. He knows that the man’s concerned about the boy, who he already scooping up in his arms. He just won’t admit that he doesn’t feel comfortable dumping a kid in a hospital without knowing who to get in contact with to look after him, instead hiding behind “the mission” as an excuse.

Jason can’t help wondering, as he looks at the other teen if he even _has_ any guardians who would visit him in the hospital. He doubts it. The boy’s probably a street kid with either deadbeat or just plain dead parents.

_This might be the start of another adoption story for Bruce._

Jason almost smiles to himself at the thought. The kid is right up the Wayne family’s alley. A boy with a bad backstory, found and rescued by Batman after being caught in a sticky situation. Hell, the kid even has black hair like the rest of the family. It’s practically perfect.

“The Batmobile is outside. Let’s head back to the cave.” Without another word Bruce turns and exits the warehouse, out the front door this time. Robin takes another look around the warehouse and just as he’s about to follow his mentor, he notices something on the floor nearby.

It’s a camera, or at least it was. The thing’s broken into three distinct pieces as it is now. Additionally, a canister of film lies near the shattered remains of the technology. Something compels his to pick up the debris and film and seal it in an evidence baggy. He’ll have to see what’s on the film later, but it could be useful in the future.

With a final once over of the building, Robin takes his leave.

He’s a little disappointed that Bianchi isn’t conscious to feel the kick he “accidentally” lands to his gut, but knowing it’ll leave a hell of a bruise in a few hours is enough of a victory for the night.

* * *

Bruce forces him to go to school the next morning despite his protests.

“Come on, B! What if the kid wakes up? I know you’ll rip right into him right away. You need Robin there to smooth things over.”

“I won’t ‘rip into him.’ I think you forget that I’ve been doing this for almost as long as you’ve been alive. I know how to interrogate witnesses.” Bruce takes a sip from his coffee, the morning paper spread out in front of him on the table.

“See, you know how to _interrogate_ witnesses, but he’s just a scared kid. I doubt that interrogation techniques are going to help you any.” The man doesn’t respond to that, which Jason takes as permission to continue. “Kids love Robin! And besides, if he really does know our identities then I think talking to a teenager is still going to be a lot easier on him than the CEO of a major corporation. Face it, you’re intimidating no matter which persona you’re in.”

“I think you’re forgetting this kid was able to withstand whatever Bianchi threw at him.”

“Even more reason for Robin to take the lead. He’s already been through a lot, Bruce…” The man’s countenance softens, but he still keeps his eyes on the paper.

“Even if he does wake up during the day, he’ll probably be too out of it to answer anything. It won’t do you any good to just sit around here.”

“As long as you give me your word that you won’t prod him until I get home, I’ll go.”

After a brief moment of consideration Bruce replies, “I won’t.”

“I’m gonna make sure Alf holds you to that.”

“I can assure you Master Jason, that Master Bruce will not scare our new guest under my watch.” The butler says, appearing in the doorway seemingly out of nowhere.

“I’ll see if I can figure out his identity before he wakes up.” Bruce stands up, ready to jump into action. Jason notes the irony in the fact that at the moment the boy sleeping in the Batcave probably knows more about the dynamic duo than they do about him.

“How the hell are you gonna do that? Finger prints? Blood sample? Those work all fine and well if he’s in a criminal database, but he’s just a kid.”

“A kid from the streets. There’s a chance he’s been picked up for something before.” Jason opens his mouth to protest, but he has a point. Most kids living in downtown Gotham have probably done something illegal at some point. Jason gets a feeling that isn’t the case with this kid though. It’s just a gut reaction.

“Whatever. Good luck with your research. I’m heading out.” He slings his backpack over his shoulder and offers a sloppy salute as he heads out the door. At this point, it’s better for him to trudge through school than argue with Bruce and risk not getting to talk to the kid at all.

* * *

Jason is only home and roaming the Batcave for half an hour before the kid wakes up. Somehow he’s lucid enough not only to understand what’s going on but also start answering the questions that are thrown his way.

The more the kid talks, the more depressing each word gets. Turns out that Timothy Drake isn’t some orphan living off the streets of Gotham, but rather the very wealthy heir to Drake Industries and he’s been missing for six days. Six days, and nobody even realized he was gone.

On top of that, he does indeed know Batman and Robin’s identities, as well as Nightwing’s. The tale of how he found out is one full of lucky coincidences and impressive detective work. It’s chilling to think that at the age of nine, Tim was already sneaking out at night. In all honesty, Jason’s a little surprised that nothing happened to him sooner. He would think Tim would have at least been held up for some money once by now.

The talking wears out Tim though, and so shortly after recounting his story in connection with Batman, he’s already snoozing. Bruce taps Jason’s shoulder and jerks his head, telling him to give the boy some space. The two vigilantes leave the med area, and Bruce starts setting up some punching bags to start training. Without a word, Jason wraps his hands to prepare for boxing.

As he’s punching the bag in front of him, he can’t help but let his mind wander. And the more he thinks, the more _pissed_ he is and it’s not even directed at Bianchi. Well, no, he’s angry that anyone could beat up a child, but that man’s a criminal. It’s expected for him to be a giant douchebag. No, most of his rage comes from the thought of Tim’s parents.

What kind of parents didn’t keep track of their kids to the point they could be kidnapped and beaten without anyone knowing. They left Tim all alone in a big house without even hired help to keep him company. No wonder the kid started stalking vigilantes in his spare time, a hobby which very well could have cost him his life. They probably wouldn’t even be home before his injuries healed and they’d be none the wiser.

Jason continues to beat into the bag, each hit filled with more fury. Before he can knock the bag off the hook, a heavy hand lands on his shoulder.

“Jason.” Bruce says, admonishing but also open. It’s way of inviting his adopted son to talk about whatever’s worrying him. Jason stops punching and steadies the bag. He turns to face Bruce and runs a hand through his sweaty hair.

“It’s just… shit Bruce. How has this kid been living without anyone looking after him without anyone noticing? How have _we_ not noticed, either as the Waynes or as Batman and Robin?”

“We were focused on other matters at the time. We couldn’t have known.”

“It took him getting beaten up by a fucking crime lord for us to see him. And even then it was only after six days. Six fucking days!” Jason clenches his fists, desperately wishing he could start punching something again.

“It’s not your fault, Jason.” Bruce tries again. As if a switch has been flipped, Jason deflates. His shoulders hunch and the anger seems to leave him all at once.

“I know that… I know but I just can’t help but thinking I should’ve been able to do something more.” Jason huffs and turns from his mentor. There’s a lot left unsaid that hangs in the air and it’s clear neither party are going to address it, no matter how much they might want to.

The silence that ensues is to be expected; Bruce has never been good with words. Instead he simply lets his hand rest on Jason’s shoulder again before moving to a different part of the cave to work. Jason starts again on the punching bag, except he actually focuses on his form rather than pure ferocity this time.

After another hour, which sees Jason practicing with long ranged weapons and lifting weights, Alfred arrives in the cave.

“Dinner is served.” He announces without waiting for acknowledgement.

“I’m not hungry.” Jason responds, resolutely continuing his set of bicep curls he’s in the middle of.

“You must keep up your energy Master Jason. I assure you, nothing will happen to our guest in the half hour it takes you to eat a proper meal.” Jason doesn’t even question how Alfred can read him so effortlessly. At this point, he’s convinced the man has some form of telepathy, though Alfred would snort at the suggestion of it.

“He’s right.” And when had Bruce gotten up from his spot at the Batcomputer? “You’ve already exerted yourself a lot this afternoon. I don’t want you passing out.”

“But what about Tim? I don’t want him to wake up and…” And for there to be no one there. Jason’s been in his shoes before. He remembers how painful it was that first week back when he would wake up, sure that he was still trapped in that warehouse in Ethiopia. The first few seconds of consciousness would always be filled with dread and anxiety, but then he would catch a glimpse of Bruce, Alfred, or even Dick at his bedside and his fears would be allayed. He’ll never admit it, but without them there, he doesn’t think he would have handled recovery half as well a he did.

“How about we wait for Master Tim to wake up so everyone may dine together?” Alfred suggests, his face softening.

“Yeah… yeah, that’ll work.” Alfred nods and makes his way over to the medical area. Not quite sure what to do, Jason follows.

Tim is still out cold, but that’s not surprising. Alfred busies himself, checking his vitals and documenting the results on a chart. Jason simply sits in the chair and waits. He promises that he’ll be here for the boy when he wakes up. He’ll do what he needs to to keep the kid safe.

God knows he didn’t do it the first time around.

* * *

It’s 7:45 before they finally sit down for dinner. Moving Tim from the cave to the manor itself was a bit more of a hassle than anybody anticipated. Tim couldn’t use crutches, his broken fingers making it impossible to grip anything, let alone support his body weight. Bruce was set to carry him, but Tim wouldn’t stand for it, either too embarrassed or unused to such close contact. In the end, he settled for being pushed in a wheelchair.

Conversation occurs at dinner, and Tim participates though he’s definitely tense. He picks at his food as he listens, only eating a couple of bites. This doesn’t surprise Jason. He doubts he’s eaten anything these past few days and trying to eat a normal portion size would probably only serve to make him sick.

As soon as Bruce is finished he leaves the table and heads back to the cave. He’s no doubt already suiting up as Batman. Jason’s glad that he didn’t make him go out and patrol tonight. Not only does he want to stay with Tim, but he knows he would probably be too distracted to be of much help anyway. Batman’s can handle himself solo.

“So…” Jason starts, pushing his plate away and leaning his arms on the mahogany dining room table. “Tell me about yourself Tim.”

“What do you mean? I already told you everything.” Tim looks up from where he had been pushing around some potatoes with his fork. His brows furrow in genuine confusion at the question.

“Well, yeah you told us about the whole Batman and Robin fanboy thing, but I want to know more about other stuff. You got any other hobbies? A favorite book? Favorite class at school?”

“Um, well I really like programming with computers. I’m not really good at it yet since I can’t find any classes online besides the basics, but it’s fun.” Shy isn’t necessarily the word Jason would use to describe Tim. He can tell that the kid wants to keep talking, but he’s worried about what others will think of him. Jason’s never been a people person per se, but he wants the boy across from him to feel comfortable with _someone_ at least and if that person has to be him, then so be it.

“Ah, you’re a tech kid. I’ve never been super good with technology, but I can get by if I have to. I just don’t have the patience for that sorta stuff.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” Immediately after he says it, a horrified expression takes over Tim’s face. “I’m so sorry! I-I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to say that outloud.”

“Ah so you were cool with just thinking it about me. I see how it is.” Jason teases.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that.” And now he feels bad looking at him, eyes nervously darting back down to his plate.

“I’m just messing with you Timbo. Don’t stress about it.” Jason lets out a chuckle to make his point.

“Timbo?”

“What is there something wrong with Timbo?”

“No that’s just… quite a unique nickname.”

“Making fun of my choice of nicknames now?” Jason gives a lopsided grin. Tim shyly smiles back.

“I’m just saying, what if I called you Jaybo? How would you react to that?” His shoulders aren’t quite as tense as they’ve been throughout the rest of the meal and Jason feels pride well in his chest.

“Jaybo? Nah, that’s stealing my idea. You gotta come up with something original.”

“No offense but the name ‘Jason’ doesn’t really leave much room for creativity. The only other thing I can think of would be Jay.”

“Nope, sorry. Ol’ Dickie bird’s got you beat to that one.” Tim rolls his eyes but can’t suppress the small grin that worms its way onto his face. Jason stands up and stretches his arms over his head. “I’ll give you some time to think about it. In the meantime, what do you wanna do?”

“Oh, um…” Whatever confidence Tim built in their brief exchange seems to fade as his eyes move back to focusing on his hands.

“A movie would do you some good.” Jason hopes that his voice doesn’t come out as too demanding or forceful. He doesn’t want to seem harsh or abrasive. “Bruce has probably spent way too much money on renovating the home theater’s sound system and he hardly uses it enough to make it worth it.”

“A movie would be nice.” Tim pushes himself away from the table with the palms of his hands and Jason takes his position behind the wheelchair. Tim fidgets the entire way to the movie room and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’d really rather be moving on his own accord. He definitely shouldn’t be using crutches for at least another week though, and that’s pushing it. Jason gets the feeling though that Tim can be very stubborn when he wants, so as soon as it’s even remotely feasible for him to be using crutches, he will be.

Jason wasn’t lying when he said the home theater was hardly used. The whole room, while clean thanks to Alfred, seems lifeless. The couches and chairs are still stiff, never having been completely broken in after the room’s renovation. Things had gotten a bit crazy around the manor and even when the family had free time together, it wasn’t spent doing such domestic activities as watching movies.

“Wow,” Tim breathes out, captivated by the set up in front of him. “This is state of the art.”

“As to be expected of Brucie Wayne, Gotham’s resident billionaire airhead.” Jason wheels him right up to one of the couches and acts as a support as Tim makes the transfer. He then rolls an ottoman over so that the younger teen can prop his ankle up. “What do you wanna watch? We have basically everything.”

“Something sci-fi maybe?” He then quickly adds. “If that’s okay with you of course.”

“No skin off my back, as long as it’s got an action sequence or two.” Jason grabs a few random movies from the sci-fi genre category--Alfred really was the master of organization--and once he makes sure that at least one of the main characters had some sort of weapon, promising a battle sequence at some point, he pops it into the player. He then sets himself down on the same couch as Tim, though he makes sure to stay on the opposite end.

It’s fun watching the movie and adding witty commentary. It’s especially great when Tim chuckles or snorts and sometimes even offers a few lines of his own. It’s done all too soon and without even asking, Jason puts another movie on.

This time, Tim only makes it about halfway through before Jason notices that he’s fallen asleep. His head firmly presses against the backrest of the couch and he looks peaceful. Jason can’t help but smile as he turns off the screen and makes his way over. He can’t really let him sleep on the couch like this, and placing him in the wheelchair runs a great risk of waking him up. With a sigh, the vigilante slips one arm under his knees and the other behind his back.

He slowly picks up Tim and begins the trek to one of the manor’s guest rooms. There, he places him on top of the bed as carefully as possible, trying to avoid jostling any injuries. He grabs a blanket from the end of the bed and drapes it over the small body. Jason looks at his handiwork and nods, almost proud of himself, before he turns off the light and leaves.

* * *

The next two weeks in the manor pass without much fanfare. Jason goes to school and resumes his nighttime activities with Bruce. The criminals of Gotham won’t be able to escape the boy wonder for too long. Outside of that though, he spends most of his time lounging around common areas of the mansion, trying to make it easy to find him.

It’s still a bit touch and go when interacting with Tim. He’s spent a lot of time with him over the past few days, ranging from talking with him as Alfred gives him his daily checkup or simply reading in the same room together. Jason would never forget how Tim’s face lit up when he handed him a replacement camera and the film he recovered from the warehouse. Even if the film was completely ruined, it clearly meant a lot to the other boy that he had it.

Just when Jason thinks that the younger teen’s finally lost his skittishness though, he’ll lock himself away in the guest room for hours at a time. Bruce explains that he’s probably not used to so much interaction outside of school and that he just needs alone time, but Jason can’t help but worry.

It’s a struggle of what to do. Trying to force himself into Tim’s life isn’t going to help anything and when--or rather if--he wants to talk, the best thing Jason can do is let him know he’s available and trustworthy. At the same time though, he doesn’t want to have to wait until the damage is done to help out. He’d much rather help before Tim becomes overwhelmed or pushed to a breaking point. Unfortunately that’s probably the only time he would willingly ask for help though. Jason’s stuck and can’t reach a decision.

The choice comes one night when he comes back from patrol.

Jason’t beyond exhausted as he shuffles through the halls toward his bedroom. It’s been a particularly rough night and he knows he has to be up in about five hours for another grueling day at school. He’ll probably let himself fall asleep during first period Biology.

He’s almost to his room when he hears a sniffle. Jason stills and just when he writes the noise off as his mind playing tricks on him, a small, choked off sob follows too. Immediately, all traces of tiredness leave his body. He’s right by the guest room Tim’s been staying in. The other boy has school tomorrow as well and unlike Jason he has no excuse to be up this late.

Jason glances from Tim’s door to his own. It would be so easy to ignore what he’s hearing and climb into bed. Tim’s used to taking care of himself. Certainly he’s dealt with his fair share of sleepless nights without a parent there to comfort him. But that’s not how it should have been.

Even if someone wasn’t there then, Jason can sure as hell be there now.

Not giving himself a chance to second guess his actions, he knocks his knuckles against the door. There’s startled rustling and after a second Tim’s voice calls out “Y-yeah?” It’s obvious he’s been crying.

Jason slowly turns the knob and pokes his head in. The lights are all off, but the light from the moon shining through the giant window offers enough visibility of the room. Tim is sitting on the edge of the bed, attempting to rub the remnants of tears from his face. He sniffles again.

“Hey, Timbo. Everything okay?” Jason isn’t quite whispering, but his voice has taken on a soft quality to it.

“Yeah I’m totally fine.” The watery smile isn’t very convincing. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I was already up.” Jason sits next to Tim on the expansive bed. He’s close enough to touch him should he choose to, but at the moment he keeps to himself.

“Oh… you should go to bed then. You have school tomorrow.” Tim wipes at his face with his sleeve again.

“So do you. What kind of asshole would I be if just went to bed knowing that you’re not in yours?”

“But I am in bed.”

“Don’t be a smart ass. You know what I mean.” Jason would normally add a playful punch here, but he isn’t quite sure where Tim’s body is still bruised and he’d rather not risk it. After a few seconds he starts again, more serious this time. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“It’s just some nightmares.” Tim runs his hands over the dark red duvet and his eyes follow the lines it leaves behind. “I can handle it. I’m not a little kid.”

“Just because you can handle it doesn’t mean you have to.”

“I just… I don’t…” Jason can tell he’s grappling for words. He slides over and places a steadying hand on the smaller teen’s shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay. None of us will judge you. Nightmares are kinda par for the course in our line of work.” The look he gets is incredulous with hope buried beneath.

“Even for Batman?”

“Even for Batman.” Jason affirms. Tim pauses and then sighs.

“Every time I go to sleep, I keep seeing him… I keep seeing Bianchi. And I-” Tim’s voice wavers and Jason’s grip tightens. “I mean, I’ve had nightmares before but they’ve never been like these. When I woke up before I could always tell myself it was just a dream. With these ones though… they’re almost always memories and even when they aren’t they’re something that could have realistically happened. And that’s what scares me: the ‘What ifs’. What if he hit me just a bit harder? What if I told him about you guys? What if you guys hadn’t…” That’s all it takes for Tim to break down and start sobbing.

He’s trying to get it back under control, but that’s almost worse to see. The poor kid can’t even let himself cry freely. Maybe that’s what makes Jason wrap his arms around Tim and pull him to his chest. He’s uncomfortable, but this is all he knows to do. It worked when Dick did it for him and so he only hopes it’ll work in this situation too. He gently shushes him and reassures him that it’s alright and finally Tim stops restraining his cries.

 _If I was scared when I was taken by the Joker, then how must a civilian like him have felt?_ _With Joker I at least had the hope that Bruce would come. Tim… he probably had nothing. He knew that no one would know he was gone and that no one was looking for him. If we hadn’t found him when we did, if we had gone home like I wanted to…_

Jason snaps himself out of that thinking. It’s not helping the situation at hand and he can’t have guilt over the past. He can only keep moving forward.

After a good five minutes Tim’s sobs gradually subside. He pulls away and wipes at his face and nose. His eyes and cheeks are red, standing out against his normally pale skin.

“I’m sorry that we didn’t come right away Tim, but I promise you that it won’t happen ever again. I won’t let it happen.”

“Nothing’s been normal since then and I hate it.” As soon as the words leave his mouth he flinches. “Not that I don’t like staying with you all. You and Mr. Wayne and Mr. Pennyworth have been very hospitable, but it’s just… at what cost?”

“You don’t have to explain.” Jason wants to tack on that he understands, that he felt the same exact way when he noticed how much his and Dick’s relationship improved after the Joker fiasco. He doesn’t think it’s an appropriate time to dump his own issues onto an already traumatized kid though, especially one who didn’t sign up for any of this. “But we can’t change the past. We can only work with the hand that we’ve been dealt.”

Tim nods solemnly at that, but his eyes don’t look so sad anymore. The room is silent as Tim gets his breathing back under control and Jason rubs his hand up and down his back.

“Thank you, Jace.” Tim’s face turns red again as he says it, though this time from embarrassment rather than the strain of crying.

“Oh I see you’ve finally found a nickname for me.”

“I… well it was the only thing I could think of. It’s not great. I can totally think of something better if you give me some more-”

“It’s perfect, Timbo. Absolutely perfect.” Jason grins and ruffles his hair. He doesn’t miss the way Tim almost leans into the touch. “We should probably get you to bed though. It’s coming up on 2 A.M. and Alfie will skin me alive if he finds out I kept you up this late… or at least put me on dish duty for a couple days.”

“Mr. Pennyworth makes you do the dishes?”

“Only if you’re bad. Bruce has been on it at least three times in the past month, but don’t tell him I told you.” That coaxes a short laugh from Tim as Jason gives him a conspiratorial wink. “Goodnight Timbo, and don’t forget I’m only one door down if you need anything, alright?”

“Goodnight.” Tim climbs back into bed, rejecting the assistance Jason offers. Like Jason suspected, he’s stubbornly independent.

Jason gives the room a final once over before he leaves and heads back to his room. As he slides under his own covers he can’t help but think about the interaction he’s had with Tim. Jason never knew he could act like that. Sure, he interacted with kids as Robin all the time, but as a civilian he hadn’t really gotten the chance. However, when the time came to calm Tim, even if he didn’t have the experience, he just did whatever he could to help him.

The kid’s only just come into his life, but he can already kinda see what Dick is saying when he talks about his “big brother instinct.”


End file.
